The Importance of Hats
by KellyZipcode
Summary: Sawamura Eijun had fallen in love with the idea of writing inspirational messages on the underside of baseball hats. Miyuki Kazuya didn't see the point.


_Ute yo ute yo ute-ute yo~_

 _Ute yo ute yo home run~_

Kazuya breathed in deeply through his nose and out of his mouth as he listened to the brass band echo in the stands. Of all the teams Seidou had faced thus far in the fall tournament, he couldn't deny that Oya Metropolitan was the cleverest opponent they'd had.

Clever as they were, though, Nabe had been right about Oya's strategies. While he was wary of being overconfident, Kazuya knew that with Nabe's success the game was now in their favor. And they could only grow from there.

 _We can be tougher and more tenacious_ , he thought as he walked toward the batter's box. _This isn't our best. We can become much better_. He stared down the no-longer presumptuous pitcher as he raised his bat and braced himself for the first pitch.

It was outside. And a ball.

 _Ute yo ute yo ute ute yo~_

 _Omae ga utanakya dare ga utsu~_

The second pitch came flying and landed with a _smack!_ in the catcher's mitt just slightly outside from where the first pitch had. Another ball.

 _Raito sutando he~_

 _Refuto sutando he~_

The third pitch was another ball.

 _Kimetekure~_

 _Neraiuchi!~_

Kazuya mentally prepared himself to swing as the next pitch left Wakabashi's hand.

"Ball four!" called the umpire as he signaled a walk. Kazuya glared down the pitcher as he jogged to first.

 _So that's how it's going to be, huh?_

Base on balls or not, the bases were now loaded as Zono stepped up to the plate. Kazuya remembered how well he'd performed at the last game. _If they underestimate him, they're going to regret it_ , he thought to himself with a smirk.

Zono squeezed his eyes shut for a moment then he slowly looked upwards towards the underside of his hat. He took a long, deep breath. Even if years spent catching hadn't trained his eyes to detect the smallest changes in demeanor, Kazuya could clearly see Zono's face shift to solid resolve as he focused back on the pitcher.

Wakabashi began his windup. Kazuya readied himself to run for second. Sparing one last glance before focusing on the base ahead of him, Kazuya saw the pitch leave Wakabashi's hand: the course was to the inside.

As he sprinted towards his goal, Kazuya heard the unmistakable metallic clang of the ball connecting with steel. _Atta boy, Zono_ , he thought as he touched base. Cheers suddenly erupted from the stands—Shirasu had made it home.

With Kominato on third, Kazuya at second, and Zono on first, the bases were again loaded as Toujou came up to bat. Kazuya watched as he hit the first pitch—another inside course—straight to the pitcher, who quickly connected for a double play, out at home.

 _Damn. They've figured us out_ , he mused as Kanemaru got another out on a grounder.

However, the rest of the innings flew by in a whirlwind of changeups and _OSHI! OSHI! OSHI!_ s from the crowd. The game had ended with Oya trailing by four points. Seidou had officially secured a spot in the semifinal. Kazuya would never admit it to him, but he was overflowing with pride: Sawamura had just successfully pitched his first full game.

As the team loaded onto the bus, Kazuya groaned internally when Sawamura sat behind him; proud or not, he wasn't looking forward to entire bus ride spent with the loudest member of the team yelling in his ear. As the younger Kominato settled into the seat next to Sawamura, Kazuya couldn't help the admiration that welled inside him for the second baseman: it took a strong amount of patience (and probably a lot of earplugs) to be Sawamura's best friend.

"Kyahahaha!" Kuramochi laughed as he dropped into the seat across the aisle from Kazuya. "Who would've thought we'd owe this game to Bakamura of all people?"

Sawamura's chest swelled with dignity. "I have told you time and time again, Kuramochi-senpai! I will be the ace of this team!"

"Slow down, tiger," Kazuya warned as he turned around in his seat. "We don't owe the _entire_ game to you. You two made a fine play at the end there," he gestured to Kuramochi and Kominato, "and let's not forget Zono's hit in the top of the sixth."

Zono looked up, a strange mix of surprise, distaste, and honor on his face. "Of course," he said matter-of-factly. "It was simple. All I had to do was tell myself to stay calm."

Kazuya quirked an eyebrow as Zono took off his hat and held it out into the aisle.

"Uwohh!" Sawamura crowed, leaning over Kominato and so far forward into the aisle that Kazuya wondered how he managed to not fall. "Zono-senpai!"

Kazuya peered at the extended hat. On the underside of the brim, written in rough, jagged characters was the phrase _Stay calm_.

Zono's chin rose triumphantly. "It keeps me levelheaded."

"Amazing!" Sawamura squeeled. "I should write something, too! Does anyone else have anything on theirs?"

To Kazuya's surprise, Kuramochi was the next to take off his hat. He offered it nobly to Sawamura.

"'You suck?' How is that supposed to motivate you, Kuramochi-senpai?" Sawamura asked loudly.

"I don't have to tell you!" Kuramochi snarled through gritted teeth as he snatched his hat back out of Sawamura's grip.

"Furuya! What does yours say?"

There was a pause.

"Staminaroll."

Everyone looked at the ace and he looked back, not an ounce of concern on his face. Then he rested his head against the window and went to sleep.

The rest of the bus ride was spent with everyone trying to tune out Sawamura as he lectured an unconscious Furuya about his horrible taste in inspirational words.

* * *

"Miyuki Kazuya!"

Kazuya flinched at the sound; he'd only made it a couple dozen steps away from the bus. Coming to a stop, he waited until Sawamura jogged up next to him and looked at him with his too big, too brown, too hopeful eyes.

"Do you have anything written on your hat?" Sawamura panted like a puppy. "I was asking around some more and I don't know what his says, but I know Toujou has something and I was wondering if you had anything too and—"

Kazuya threw his head back in laughter. "Hahahaha! No, that's stupid!"

Sawamura's characteristically cheerful face instantly fell. "It is not! And you're stupid for thinking it's stupid!"

Nose still in the air, Kazuya lowered his eyes and looked down at the younger boy before brushing past him and continuing on his way. "Wow, Bakamura, insult of the century there. You really got me."

To Kazuya's great displeasure, he heard Sawamura jogging after him.

"Well, why do you think it's stupid?" he pressed.

"It's cheesy."

Sawamura's frown deepened.

"Well, why do you think it's cheesy?"

"Because it's unnecessary."

Sawamura's frown deepened further.

"How could you say it's unnecessary? There is nothing unnecessary about inspiration!"

Kazuya stopped suddenly and watched with amusement as Sawamura rushed past him, unable to slow his momentum. As the pitcher doubled back, Kazuya cocked a hip to the side and crossed his arms.

"Please enlighten me as to how a couple of dumb words are supposed to _inspire_ me, Sawamura."

The boy puffed out his chest, placed his hands on his hips, and raised his head in indignation. "Miyuki-senpai, how _dare_ you discredit such a respectable baseball tradition! As every player knows, when worst comes to worst, nothing is more encouraging than being able to look up at the brim of your hat and seeing words that will give you the determination you need to achieve your dreams!"

Kazuya raised an eyebrow in challenge. "I don't need to write anything on a hat for that."

Sawamura's eyes bugged out of his head, like he'd just thrown the first bad pitch in the middle of a good streak. "Ugh, you damn tanuki bastard! You're missing the point!" He threw his arms out to the side. "What even keeps you going?"

Kazuya shrugged. "I want to win and I want to help my team win. The end. No words needed."

He wasn't quite sure at first, but after listening closely, he noticed Sawamura was quite literally growling at him in frustration. "M-Miyuki K-K-Kazuyaaa—"

Kazuya ran a hand through his hair. "Let me put it into terms your empty head can understand, Sawamura. I am a _catcher_. I don't ever wear my Seidou hat. I wear a helmet when I'm catching and a helmet when I'm batting. That's it. Why would I write something on a hat I don't even wear?"

Sawamura instantly straightened up and blinked a couple times and then frowned. "So…you really don't have anything written on it?"

"Nope." Kazuya hiked up his bag on his shoulder and resumed his walk back to the dorms. Sawamura, predictable as ever, followed.

"…Can I write something on it for you?"

"Nope."

"But I'm really good at this stuff!"

"Is that so? So what do you plan to put on your hat, a drawing of Chris-senpai's face?"

The younger boy bristled, but Kazuya noted that he didn't object.

"Haha! You're really something, Bakamura!" Kazuya sang as he slung his arm into its usual place around Sawamura's shoulders.

"Get off of me!"

"Nope."

* * *

Practice started the next day with the coach announcing they would have an intra-squad game: first string versus second string. Out of the corner of his eye, Kazuya saw Sawamura tremor as he was told he would pitch for the second string.

 _This will give me a chance to put you in your place_ , Kazuya thought with glee. _I don't need you getting even more conceited on me now, do I?_

When it came Kazuya's turn to bat, he smacked away Sawamura's changeup without any hesitation and had to fight back the urge to stick out his tongue at the boy as he ran to base.

After practice had ended for the night, Kazuya packed up in a rush. He had one objective tonight, and one objective only: to sleep. The Oya game had left him exhausted and with the second string as resilient as ever, the intra-squad game had multiplied his fatigue tenfold. Seidou's next game was the semifinal against Seiko High and although it was still days away, Kazuya knew they had a lot of preparation to do before then.

However, Kazuya's night, of course, hadn't gone as he planned.

All he wanted—all he really _ever_ wanted—was one night to himself. Just one night where he could simply take a bath and then come back to his room and quietly go to sleep. Surely that wasn't too much to ask. However, as Kazuya exited the bathhouse, he could already hear the usual ruckus echoing from his room. He threw his towel around his shoulders and sighed to himself then trudged up the stairs to the second level. As he reached towards the doorknob, the door was quite violently thrown open. Before he even had a chance to look up, something knocked into him and sent him toppling to the ground.

"Make sure you get the strawberry one!" Kuramochi's voiced bellowed from within. "You always get orange! Who even likes orange ramune!?"

Without so much as a glance at Kazuya, who was sprawled under him in a rather compromising position, Sawamura got to his knees and defensively shouted back, "I do!"

"Orange? Really?" The younger boy's head whipped around so fast that Kazuya was concerned it would fall off. When Sawamura finally realized his positioning, Kazuya grinned.

"M-MIYUKI KAZUYA!" He pointed at Kazuya accusingly, who cringed. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, this _is_ my dorm. And I would like to go inside, if you don't mind," he said as he pointedly looked Sawamura up and down. The pitcher's face turned a vivid scarlet as he scurried to stand up.

"A-ah!—well, if you hadn't been in the way when I—!"

"Again, my room."

Sawamura was just about to retort when—"OI! SAWAMURA!"

Immediately distracted, Sawamura shouted back a quick "I'm going, I'm going!" before stomping off towards the vending machines. Kazuya watched him go and heard him grumble the entire way down, and although he couldn't hear what Sawamura was saying, he did make out something about "rotten senpais."

Picking himself off the ground, Kazuya braced himself for the onslaught and headed inside. "Oi, if you're all going to be in here, can I at least sit on my own bed?"

The two boys occupying his bed moved obediently (Toujou with a polite "Sorry, Miyuki-san") and joined the rest of the group on the floor where Kuramochi was yelling profanities at his video game. He, personally, had no interest in the game so true to Miyuki Kazuya form, he took out a baseball magazine and began to read.

Sawamura returned about ten minutes later, arms filled with several flavors of ramune. By the aggravated look on his face and number of bottles in his arms, Kazuya could tell that Sawamura had indeed forgotten which flavor Kuramochi preferred. It did cross Kazuya's mind to give the poor boy a hint, but he quickly decided against it; the obvious and infinitely more amusing option was to watch him suffer.

Once Sawamura had settled down with the others and recovered from being the guinea pig for Kuramochi's new wrestling move, the conversation turned to the usual-as-of-late topic.

"Kawakami-senpai!" Sawamura announced reverently as he bowed his head, "May I ask you a very important question?"

"Oh, here we go."

"Enough with this hat business already."

"Yeah, just drop it, Sawamura."

Kawakami scratched his ear before uttering a quiet "Sure."

"Do you have anything written on the underside of your hat?"

"Um…I do. It says…" and then as if he changed his mind mid-answer, Kawakami stopped speaking. Although no one in the room seemed to be paying particular mind to the pitcher, Kazuya had noticed that the others had quieted down a bit and Kuramochi's fingers had stopped moving on his controller.

"Yes, Kawakami-senpai?" Sawamura pushed. Kazuya shook his head gravely. Kawakami wasn't getting out of this one. He gulped.

"It says _Faith_."

Sawamura's mouth popped open into a little "O" and he began clapping. Kazuya chanced a glance at a furiously blushing Kawakami, who was trying to stifle the big smile that threatened to break across his face.

Although Kuramochi's eyes hadn't left the television screen, he said, "Nice."

"Alright, Kanemaru! It's your turn!"

Kazuya expected the blond-haired first year to brush off Sawamura as usual, so he was surprised when Kanemaru puffed out his chest and proudly declared, "My hat says _King of the Diamond._ "

There was an awkward moment of silence.

Kuramochi was the first to crack. "Are you shitting me!?"

"Oi, Kanemaru," Zono said in a tone that was much more hushed than usual, "No. Just, no."

Kazuya looked up from his magazine towards the loudest source of noise and was not disappointed: Sawamura was doubled over in fits of raucous laughter.

"K-Kanemaru! How—?" _huff_ "How can you—?" _huff_ "K-king!"

Faster than he'd ever moved to catch a grounder to third, Kanemaru was on his feet and in front of Sawamura. "You have three seconds to rethink what you—"

"Harucchi."

Sawamura was already back on his knees in the perfect seiza position, paying Kanemaru no mind and staring intently at the younger Kominato who was sitting inconspicuously in the corner of the room. The whole scene was so… _Sawamura_ and Kazuya couldn't help but laugh before he went back to his magazine.

"Harucchi," Sawamura repeated, voice grave.

"Yes, Eijun-kun?"

"What do you have written on your hat?"

"Nothing."

Kazuya's eyes shot up once again, first to Kominato, then to Sawamura, who was oddly, _worrisomely_ silent. Then his cheeks puffed up and grew as pink as his friend's hair. Kazuya knew where this was going; he began counting down.

 _3…2…1…_

"No, no, no! That will not do!" Sawamura was instantly on his feet, shaking his head from side to side. "I will not have Harucchi of all people besmirching the beautiful tradition of writing inspirational words on one's hat!" Sawamura put his hand on Kominato's shoulder. "Harucchi, how have you made it this far? How have you not yet crumbled under the pressure of the great Seidou Baseball Club, under the strict guidance of Boss, with no words to guide you? And I, your dearest friend, was ignorant of this egregious travesty all along! How I have failed you!"

Kominato dutifully waited until Sawamura finished his tirade before asking, "Do you want to write something on it for me?"

The pitcher's eyes lit up like he'd just been told he was starting the next game. Kominato walked over to the bag he'd left by the door.

Quite suddenly, Sawamura was in Kazuya's face. "Miyuki-senpai! Do you have a marker?"

Sawamura was so close, too close. He was leaning right on top of Kazuya, arms trapping him in his spot on the bed. Kazuya's eyes couldn't even focus properly. Something smelled faintly of honey.

It took Kazuya a full second to realize that 1) he had not yet answered Sawamura, and 2) everyone's eyes were glued on him. Without warning—though the younger boy should have seen it coming, honestly—Kazuya shoved his hand in Sawamura's face and pushed him back with such force that he fell backwards with a loud _oof_.

"What was that for!?" Sawamura squawked from his place on the floor.

Kazuya shrugged, a smirk wide on his face. "You were in my personal bubble."

"I didn't enjoy it!"

Kazuya's eyes were already carefully trained back on his magazine. "There's a permanent marker in the top drawer. Try not to inhale too deeply, Bakamura."

After several minutes of digging, Sawamura resurfaced with an "Aha!" and made a beeline for Kominato who appeared to have mastered the art of appearing simultaneously apprehensive and resigned. He sighed as he handed over his hat but there was a calm smile on his face nonetheless.

Sawamura thought for a moment and Kazuya watched through his eyelashes as the boy brought the marker to his mouth and pensively ran it across his bottom lip. He considered yelling at him _just because_ but before he could even think of an insult, Sawamura was scribbling furiously on the brim of the hat. Kominato stayed in the corner, without a trace of complaint on his face; Kuramochi, on the other hand, had abandoned his video game in favor of peering over his kouhai's shoulder. The moment Sawamura lifted the marker (a very satisfied smile stretched across his face as he appreciated his work), Kuramochi snatched the hat out of his hands. His eyes narrowed as he read and then he burst into cackles.

"Hyahaha! Of all things?" He clutched his stomach. "Of all things, _that_ is what you put? Hyahahahaha!"

Sawamura swatted futilely at Kuramochi as he tried his best to grab the hat back.

"Kuramochi-senpai, what does it say?" Kanemaru asked, a devious glint in his eyes.

With little effort, Kuramochi wrapped his arm around Sawamura's neck in a headlock—instantly incapacitating him—and dramatically cleared his throat.

" _Oshi oshi o—shi!_ "

Everyone broke into boisterous laughter, Sawamura's catchphrase spilling from their lips. Sawamura gave up trying to wriggle free of Kuramochi's stronghold and simply waited until he was released. Kazuya smiled at the large pout on his face; he wasn't sure how anyone could look so comically sad.

"Why in the world would you write that, Bakamura?" Zono laughed heartily. "'Oshi oshi oshi,' honestly."

Sawamura's pout deepened as he folded his arms. "It means a lot to me." Then he glanced at Kominato. "I thought it could mean a lot to Harucchi, too."

Although it was very faint, Kazuya noticed Kominato's cheeks deepen in hue. "Thanks, Eijun-kun."

Almost instantly, the frown was wiped off of Sawamura's face as rubbed his neck nervously (which Kazuya noticed was also tinted slightly pink) and beamed at his friend.

 _Rrrrip!_

Kazuya looked down. The page he had been reading was torn halfway down the spine.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, the conversation had inevitably turned to the topic of hats as well, except this time it wasn't on Sawamura's accord.

"Oi, Bakamura!" Kanemaru called a couple tables down from Kazuya. "What did you end up writing on your hat?"

Kazuya watched as Sawamura's face reddened tremendously.

"Nothing! I mean, something! But it doesn't matter!" He threw his hands out in front of him defensively.

Kuramochi got up from his seat beside Kazuya and walked over to his roommate. "Then why are you blushing?" he asked as he peered down at him.

"Because it's important! And I don't have to tell you!"

Kuramochi leaned in closer.

"If you don't tell me, I'm going to beat you up."

"No!" Sawamura shouted, more out of exasperation than fear. At that moment, Kazuya had noticed that all eyes had focused on the two boys in the middle of the room.

"Then why don't you just tell me?"

"…I can't."

"And why not?"

"It's too personal."

"My fist is about to get personal with your face."

"People will make fun of me!"

Kanemaru chimed in. "Maybe you're too dense to notice, but people already make fun of you."

Sawamura pouted, but remained strong.

"What's wrong then?" Kuramochi asked as he narrowed his eyes. "And again, why in the _hell_ are you blushing? Got a crush or something Sawamura?"

"NO! I just…" Kazuya watched as Sawamura rolled his eyes and sighed. Defeat was plain on his face. "They're the most important words anyone has ever said to me, okay? There, that's all you get."

Kuramochi straightened up and crossed his arms defiantly.

"Did Wakana say them?"

Sawamura's face twitched in disbelief. "Wha—no!"

"You're blushing again," Kominato murmured next to him. Kazuya laughed.

That was the day that every member of the Seidou Baseball Club vowed they would find out what was written on Sawamura Eijun's hat. And as Kazuya watched Sawamura continue to blush wildly and Kominato pat him sadly on the shoulder, he realized he knew just the person he needed to ask.

* * *

"Kominato!" Kazuya called during a lull in practice.

Kominato Haruichi looked around in confusion for a couple moments before realizing who had called his name. "Yes, Miyuki-senpai?"

Kazuya cleared his throat, not really sure how to ask what he was about to. "Your batting looks really good today."

The boy opened his mouth but closed it quickly and then pulled his hat down farther on his head. "Um…thanks. I've been trying to aim for hits along third lately."

"Ah," Kazuya added weakly.

"Zono-senpai was telling me how he did it and so after the last game, I thought I'd give it a try."

"Yes. Good."

Kominato smiled, unconvinced. "Did you need something, Miyuki-senpai?"

"Ah, yes! So this morning…that is…" he leaned in conspicuously towards the other boy. "Do you know what's written on Sawamura's hat?"

Kominato didn't look one bit surprised at the question.

"I do."

 _Yes!_ Kazuya cheered internally.

"But I can't tell you."

Kazuya straightened up, unable to keep the grimace off his face. "Why not?"

"I promised Eijun-kun I wouldn't tell anyone."

"So don't tell him you told me?"

Kominato shook his head. "Sorry, Miyuki-senpai. I promised."

Kazuya sighed. "Fine, that's all." Kominato inclined his head and turned back to the dugout. "But honestly, good practice today!" Kazuya called after him. He watched as the pink-haired boy jogged back to the bench and immediately sat down in his usual place next to Sawamura. They huddled together and began talking. He saw Sawamura stiffen before scanning the field in a panic. Kominato placed a hand on his shoulder and said something that instantly calmed the pitcher down.

Kazuya's stomach felt funny.

When practice picked back up, the pitchers and catchers had assembled in the bullpen. For the majority of the time, Kazuya was paired with Furuya (as the coach planned to have him start in the semifinal game). Although his control felt a little more off than usual, Kazuya observed that the ace's pitches seemed somehow faster than usual. He would have bet what little money he had that it was because of Sawamura's performance in the Oya game.

For the sake of having a well-rounded practice, the pitchers and catchers rotated and Kazuya eventually found himself paired up with the very source of Furuya's unease.

"I've bet you've been waiting all day for this, huh, Miyuki-senpai?" Sawamura yelled as he tossed a baseball between his hands. Beyond used to it, everyone else in the bullpen ignored him.

"Yeah, yeah, all day," Kazuya drawled. He smacked his fist in his glove and held it out in front of him. "Give me a changeup."

"Right off the bat?"

Kazuya saw (with pleasure) that he didn't look wary, just surprised. He nodded.

Sawamura wound up and released the ball. As it slammed into his mitt, Kazuya called, "Too fast."

"Wha—!?"

He threw the ball back. "Focus more on drawing your arm all the way through. You focused so much on your leg that you forgot that." He squatted back into position.

Sawamura threw a pitch almost identical to the first. Kazuya threw the ball back. "Again."

The cycle repeated several times, with only one pitch even coming close to Kazuya's standards. He had been on the other end of those pitches at the Oya game and he knew Sawamura owed it to himself to do better.

Sawamura didn't see things the same.

"Can't we practice something else already?" he complained, letting his head fall back.

"No. Not yet."

Sawamura's face screwed up in frustration and it was then that Kazuya violently remembered how he'd smiled so beatifically the night before. At Kominato.

"I'm sick of this, though!"

How he was always next to Kominato. Leaning into him.

"Too bad."

"Why can't we work on inside pitches instead?"

Kominato was the one person who knew what Sawamura's hat said. And he wouldn't tell him.

"If you just want people to tell you what you want to hear, why don't you have Kominato catch for you instead?"

At that, all heads turned towards Kazuya, who awkwardly stood up and pretended to be leaving for a water break. Unfortunately, Sawamura heatedly followed after him.

"What was that about?" Sawamura demanded when they were out of sight.

Kazuya avoided eye contact as he took a drink from his water bottle.

Sawamura was unrelenting. "What does Haruichi have to do with anything?"

Kazuya tried his best not to roll his eyes. "Nothing. Drop it. Let's go back."

Sawamura made no effort to move and blocked Kazuya's way. "No, I want to know why you brought up Haruichi."

"Don't you mean _Harucchi_?" Kazuya jeered.

"Take that back."

Kazuya finally risked a glance up at Sawamura and what he saw…well, it hurt. The pitcher's eyes were slightly red and although his lips were taut, they were trembling. At first, Kazuya thought it might be because Sawamura was about to cry. Then he realized it was in anger.

"No."

Then Kazuya did all he could stand to do, and walked away. Sawamura did not follow.

* * *

Try as he might, sleep evaded Kazuya that night. He wanted to blame it on the awful practice, the exam he failed earlier that week, or even the building tension with Coach Ochiai. Anything. But when Kazuya closed his eyes, he couldn't fight off the image of the look on Sawamura's face.

It had been a half hour since he had shut off the lights and gotten in bed.

Sighing to himself, he rolled over and stared at the wall, willing it to lull him to sleep.

Another ten minutes passed. Kazuya didn't even blink.

" _Bakamura_."

It was no use. He rolled over again and pushed himself out of bed. He quickly pulled on the pants he had taken off an hour ago, grabbed his batting bag, and headed out the door.

There was nothing a couple dozen practice swings couldn't solve.

* * *

With each step Kazuya took, his thoughts grew louder and more chaotic.

Why had Sawamura been so eager to write something on Kominato's hat?

 _Okay, never mind_ , he thought to himself, _Sawamura is eager about everything he does._

But then why had Kominato blushed like that? Why would anyone blush about anything Sawamura did, except out of like…secondhand embarrassment?

And, most of all, why had Sawamura blushed right back? And what had Kominato said to him at practice? Why did Kominato get to know what was on that damn hat?

Each thought slammed into his brain like a fastball, ringing in his ears almost like he was behind home plate with his arm outstretched.

 _WHAM!_

He took of his glasses and rubbed his eyes—nope, definitely still not tired.

 _WHAM!_

He could still see Sawamura's face

 _WHAM!_

As he came to the entrance of the indoor practice field, he realized he wasn't imagining the sound at all. Almost like some bad karma had befallen him, the object of Kazuya's distress was right there, pitching to the net in the corner.

Briefly, Kazuya considered staying outside. He shook his head vigorously. No, he was the captain! He had just as much right to practice here. And even more importantly, he was Miyuki Kazuya. And Miyuki Kazuya didn't run away from anything (okay, well, except for earlier that day).

Staying as close to the other side of the building as he could, Kazuya dropped his bag and pulled out his bat. The steady rhythm of Sawamura's pitches faltered and although he kept his gaze on his bat, Kazuya knew the other boy was looking at him.

Kazuya began swinging.

 _Say something to me_ , he thought. _I dare you._

More quickly than Kazuya would've liked, Sawamura's pitches picked back up. Double-time.

 _Idiot._

Kazuya swung.

 _WHAM!_

Kazuya swung again.

 _WHAM! WHAM!_

Kazuya gritted his teeth and swung again. Just by the sound of the ball striking the net, he could tell that there was no control behind the pitches.

 _WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!_

He didn't know what he did to deserve this (okay, maybe he could think of a _couple_ instances); steeling himself to face his fate, Kazuya turned around.

"Oi, Bakamura! Why don't you calm down a bit over there?"

 _WHAM!_

Kazuya flinched—although the pitch was off course again, it had been a great deal faster than the rest. Sawamura continued to ignore him.

"Oi!"

 _WHAM! WHAM!_ Again, the pitches struck the net far from their intended target. Kazuya ground his teeth; after all that Chris-senpai had taught him, the idiot was still over-practicing. And even worse, after all the progress he'd made over the last couple weeks, the idiot was pitching carelessly. He was destroying his form. Kazuya cringed and then he willed himself forward.

Sawamura wound up, mere seconds after the last ball had gone crashing towards the edge of the net.

"If you continue on like that, I'll tell Chris-senpai," Kazuya deadpanned behind him.

Sawamura balked, a loud grunt escaping from his chest, and threw the ball straight into the rafters. As the ball connected with one of the lights, he whipped around to face the catcher. Kazuya instinctively took a step back at the look on the younger boy's face—he looked positively crazed.

Kazuya scratched the back of his neck as Sawamura stared him down, his shoulders heaving. _Shit_ , he groaned internally. He hadn't thought this far ahead.

"You're using way too much force," he tried.

Sawamura just continued to glare at him.

"You should be working on your control," he attempted again.

Sawamura's eyes blazed in anger—like some twisted form of his determined look when he was on the mound—and Kazuya found that he couldn't look away, no matter how much he wanted.

"I want you to apologize!"

Kazuya jumped. "For what?"

Sawamura's eyes quite literally popped out of his head before his face scrunched up in pain. "For what you said earlier!"

Kazuya scratched the corner of his mouth. "Ah, that."

"'Ah, that,' he says! Miyuki Kazuya, you are the nastiest, most despicable person I have ever had the displeasure of meeting! Honestly!" The pitcher threw his hands in the air. If Kazuya hadn't known this anger was somehow directed at him, he would've laughed at how theatrical the action was.

Kazuya knew that the solution to this whole dilemma would be as simple as apologizing, but no matter how he rationalized it, he just couldn't bring himself to say the words. Kazuya was never sorry for anything—to him, apologizing was admitting defeat. He decided to take a different route entirely.

"How about I catch for you a bit, Sawamura?"

Immediately, the boy straightened up, looked at him with wide eyes and blinked.

"You—"

"Say one more word and I'll take it back," Kazuya said as he sauntered over towards where the spare protective gear was kept.

Crouching low into his catcher's stance, Kazuya prepared himself for the worst. To his surprise, however, Sawamura took several deep breaths and then managed to pitch quite calmly. After several relays of the ball, Kazuya took a deep breath of his own and called for a changeup.

Sawamura closed his eyes for a moment before a stupid, lazy grin appeared on his face. He wound up and although his foot slammed down with the force of a wrecking ball and his arm shot out like an arrow, the ball flew from his hand with a certain weightlessness. Kazuya grinned as it nearly floated into his mitt.

"Nice ball."

For the first time since that afternoon, Sawamura smiled.

After a half hour or so, Sawamura was the one that decided to call it a night. Kazuya found that his anxiety had melted away. Sawamura, he noted, looked positively exhausted and he vaguely wondered how long he'd been pitching before Kazuya had joined him.

"Want a drink?" Kazuya asked as they rounded the corner by the vending machines. "My treat."

Before Sawamura even had a chance to object, Kazuya was already shoving a bottle of Pocari Sweat into his hands. Kazuya went and sat down on the nearby bench. After a moment, Sawamura sat down next to him and Kazuya noticed that he did so uncharacteristically in silence. Deciding not to tempt fate, Kazuya focused on his drink and avoided so much as looking at the other boy; instead, he looked at the few stars he could see. Once the bottle was empty and the clouds had smothered any remaining bits of the night sky, Kazuya thought it was safe to proceed.

"So why does this stupid hat thing matter so much to you anyway?"

All it took was Sawamura's nostrils flaring for Kazuya to clamp his hand over the pitcher's mouth. The boy's eyes darted around in confusion before focusing on Kazuya and narrowing. Kazuya should have known: it was never safe around Sawamura.

With his hand still pressed over Sawamura's lips, Kazuya rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, I know. Inspiration and all that. But what I want to know is why it matters. Why do you care what everyone has written on their hat?"

Sawamura's eyes—somehow still managing to shine gold in the moonlight—bored into Kazuya's and Kazuya stared right back. After several moments (and when Kazuya was sure Sawamura was not going to explode in another lecture on the importance of baseball hat etiquette), Kazuya withdrew his hand.

He expected the pitcher to yell at him or insult him or even hit him. What he didn't expect was for Sawamura to stay frozen in place, eyes still glued on Kazuya's own. Suddenly, Kazuya was reminded of how Sawamura's face had been twisted in rage earlier that evening, but he realized although it was all he'd been able to think about for the past several hours, he now couldn't remember any of the details. All he could see was the wide-eyed, blushing boy in front of him.

Kazuya almost smiled and then stilled.

 _Blushing?_

Before he could think any further on it, Sawamura had finally turned away from him and leaned forward on his knees. He was scratching his right ear in a way that hid his entire face.

"I want to know what everyone has written on their hats because I want to _know_ them. I want to know what motivates them, what pushes them, what makes them give their all when they have nothing left to give. I just…everyone here is very different," he finally turned and looked at Kazuya, "and it's kind of amazing, you know? And I what to know everything because they're the team that stands behind me when I'm on the mound and I care about them."

Honesty was never a concept that made much sense to Kazuya. He could be blunt, sure. But being unabashedly open about something even as dumb as wanting to know why your teammates wrote things like _Stay Calm_ and _Faith_ on their hats was entirely foreign to him. And here was Sawamura, saying it all with such ease. Kazuya was in awe.

"I care about you too, you know."

Without Kazuya's notice, Sawamura had angled his whole body towards him. He blinked and searched Sawamura's eyes for any trace of confusion. Surely, he'd misheard him. "You…what?"

Realization as to what he'd said hit the younger boy like a fastball to the face and his cheeks flushed instantly. He ducked his head to the side and scrunched his face up in annoyance. "I'm not saying it again, you damn tanuki," he growled.

Kazuya laughed and it was the freest he'd felt in…well, all season.

"You sure are something, Sawamura." Without any hesitation, Kazuya reached towards the pitcher and ruffled his hair. He stopped as soon as he'd started and got up to head back to his room. Something told him it would be a little easier to fall asleep this time.

"Thanks, Miyuki-senpai."

Kazuya stopped and turned around. Sawamura hadn't moved from his spot on the bench and was looking at him in earnest. Kazuya smirked at him, then continued on his way.

"I'm still not letting you write anything on my hat," he called back.

The _Tch!_ that erupted from Sawamura was so distressed that Kazuya actually felt bad for the boy. What a shame it was, for he couldn't even see the genuine smile that had replaced the smirk on Kazuya's face.

* * *

Miyuki Kazuya had never been more confused in his life.

Nothing was wrong, but there was certainly something not right. He'd resolved his fight with Sawamura, so it wasn't that. Practice had been going remarkably well since the Oya game, so it wasn't that. Even Zono was being oddly nice, so it wasn't that either.

Still, Kazuya could tell that something was definitely off and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. All he could keep coming back to was this godforsaken hat dilemma.

He could only think of one person to ask for advice.

The sun was just starting to reach for the horizon when Coach Kataoka dismissed everyone from practice and urged them all to go to sleep early in preparation for the next day's game. After a few words with the coach, Kazuya took his time taking off his catcher's gear and cleaning up the bullpen. When everything was tidied up neater than it had been all summer, he picked up his bag and forced himself to head to the dugout where only a few lingered and sat down.

"Miyuki," a deep voice called from behind him.

Kazuya turned around and came face to face with Chris-senpai.

"Hey. Thanks for coming out here."

Chris shook his head. "It's no problem at all." He looked out at the field. "I've missed this place."

With a smile, Kazuya admitted, "It misses you, too."

"What did you want to talk about?"

Chris was never one to beat around the bush. It was one of the things that Kazuya admired about him; however, at this point in time, he grimaced.

 _Well,_ Kazuya thought to himself, _better to just get it over with._

"Do you…erm…do you have anything written on the underside of your hat? Like your uniform hat?" He felt stupid and so he kept his eyes on the ground. Of all the people he knew, Takigawa Chris Yuu was the last person Kazuya would expect to—

"Yes."

At that, Kazuya looked up and Chris looked right back at him with only the smallest hint of curiosity. Kazuya could feel his mouth hanging open and willed it to form words. When that didn't work, he simply looked away.

"W—what does it—" he stopped as another thought struck him. "Why?"

Chris's eyebrows knitted together. "What do you mean why?"

"Well, I mean, I know you're not on the team anymore, but you were a catcher. We don't even wear the hats so it seems silly, you know?"

The older boy sat down next to him and leaned forward on his knees. "I don't think it seems silly."

Kazuya raised his hands defensively. "I didn't mean it like—"

"I know." Chris glanced at him, his lips slightly turned up in a smile, but then looked back out at the field. Silence settled between them for a moment. Kazuya could hear the faint sounds of someone shouting in the distance and strained his eyes to the outfield where, sure enough, Sawamura—trusted tire in tow—was running after Furuya.

"It doesn't matter what hat I'm wearing or if I'm on the field or off. It's the principle of the thing."

Suddenly, Kazuya found himself leaning forward too, eyes intent on the outfield, and quickly leaned back against the bench. He carefully placed his arms behind his head and extended his legs. The complete image of calm, cool, and collected—three things which he certainly did not feel right now. "Okay…" he mused. Chris didn't seem inclined to continue, but Kazuya sure as hell wasn't going to ask.

After several more moments of not-so contented silence, Chris finally said, "Think back to your first summer training camp. How did you feel?"

Kazuya's eyebrow quirked. "Exhausted?"

"But accomplished, right?"

In truth, Kazuya had felt defeated more than anything at the time. He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"And what about your first game as a starter?"

Kazuya's eyes fell to his lap and his hands dropped to play with the buttons on his practice jersey. "Well, I mean, that was when you—you know. Of course, I was happy to play but I didn't deserve—"

Chris shook his head, eyes intent on Kazuya. "How did you feel?"

"…Like I was where I belonged. I couldn't get enough of it." The words slipped out before he could stop himself and Kazuya cringed at how they sounded. Chris chuckled once, in spite of himself, and looked at the ground.

"I'm sorry." Kazuya said, somewhat strained. Chris shook his head.

"What about after the final against Inashiro?"

"That—that—" He paused. He couldn't really find the words to describe how that loss had impacted him. While the rest of the team had all but broke down in tears, Kazuya had for the most part remained unaffected by the grief. Instead, he remembered many sleepless nights spent reviewing the footage of the game incessantly, his sights set only on how to navigate Seido's new path to victory. "I felt…determined."

Chris nodded once more. "And how did you feel the first time Sawamura successfully threw to the inside again?"

Kazuya's heart stopped.

"What does Sawamura have to do with any of this?" His eyes darted to the field where the first-year pitchers were still running, then quickly back at the older boy's face.

With his eyebrows raised, Chris prompted, "Well?"

"It felt…" He thought about it for a moment, remembering the sheer resolve burning in Sawamura's eyes; he could feel the fire inside the pitcher radiating all the way from the mound. Coming out of his daze, Kazuya found his eyes had wandered back to Sawamura in the outfield, who was now trying to steal back his tire from Furuya. He paused a moment more and chose his words carefully. "It felt inspiring. Encouraging."

"Exactly. And that is why I have words on my hat. To remember those feelings. To remember where I came from, why I'm here, and where I want to be."

"So what did you write?"

Instead of answering, Chris reached around and began digging in his bag. He pulled out a slightly misshapen hat that otherwise appeared hardly worn and handed it to Kazuya. Flipping the hat over, Kazuya squinted at the underside of the brim and attempted to make out the faded characters. When he finally spoke, it was around a lump in his throat.

" _Devote every moment._ "

Try as he might, Kazuya couldn't keep usual composure. "This—this is—"

"Yeah, it's from the indoor gym."

"Chris-senpai…" he trailed off. "You didn't have to tell me if you didn't want to. I'm sorry. I know that was probably really personal."

Chris smiled solemnly before looking out at the field again. "Maybe what's written on someone's hat is personal, but it's important to share your inspiration with other people. I think that's the whole point." He directed his gaze at Kazuya. "Don't you agree?"

Kazuya nodded automatically. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

They both leaned back then and gazed out at the field as Sawamura tackled Furuya and stole back his beloved tire.

* * *

It was lunch during lunch the next day when Kazuya approached the only person he knew that could (or would) help him.

"So let me get this straight," Kuramochi said slowly. "You want _me_ to help _you_ steal Bakamura's hat."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he won't tell anyone what's written on it and I need to know what it says."

"Why do you need to know?"

"Because he's an idiot so what does he have to hide?"

"Fair."

Kazuya nodded and crossed his arms; he could hear the gears turning in the shortstop's brain but his skepticism was clearly on his face.

"What's in it for me?"

Kazuya snickered. Victory was his.

"Wakana's phone number."

Kuramochi's shoulders drooped and he slammed his forehead on the desk. "When?" he grumbled, not even looking up.

Kazuya couldn't keep the smirk off his face. "Tonight."

Kuramochi groaned. "I hate you. You know that, right?"

"Hahaha! I wouldn't have it any other way!"

* * *

Dinner that night was natto and Kazuya thanked his lucky stars, for he knew that Sawamura would be in and out of the cafeteria in record time: everyone know that natto was the pitcher's least favorite food. Sure enough, he watched from across the room as the pitcher got up from his seat (natto still untouched) and headed back to the counter for more rice. As Kazuya picked at the remnants of his own meal, he ran through the plan in his mind.

Sawamura—being a simple-minded moron—was as predictable as it was possible for anyone to be. It was pitiful how easy it would get him to play right along into Kazuya's plan. And Kazuya almost felt sorry for him because of it. Almost.

He continued to watch as Sawamura finished up every bit of his meal except for the natto. It was at that point he and Sawamura both noticed that Furuya had gone back for not only seconds, but _thirds_ of the dish and was finishing up quite…passionately. All it took was one glance at Furuya's almost-empty tray to light a fire under Sawamura. In record time, he began eating with gusto, eyebrows knitted in extreme distaste. Sawamura would never settle for second place after Furuya, whether it was in pitching or dinner, it seemed.

"For the love of baseball, would you stop looking at him like that? I'm trying to eat here," Kuramochi moaned.

Kazuya flinched and then glowered, but was distracted when he noticed his teammate's nearly empty tray.

"Looks like you're done! Time for you to go," Kazuya all but sang as he nudged Kuramochi in the side.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going," Kuramochi said, voice and face filled with annoyance as he rose from the table and headed to put his dishes away. "You just…you had better be grateful."

Kazuya grinned at him unapologetically and Kuramochi smacked him upside the head as he made his way out the exit.

Sawamura left not too long after, having finished his natto well before Furuya who was now staring listlessly at his empty tray. Kazuya watched as Kominato waved a hand in front of the ace's face. There was no reaction.

Another twenty minutes passed as Kazuya busied himself with pretending to be engrossed in Shirasu's and Kawakami's conversation. All the while he watched the clock. His phone finally buzzed in his pocket five minutes later.

 _He's back from the bath_ , read the short message from Kuramochi.

Shirasu quirked a brow and Kawakami recoiled as Kazuya bid them goodnight; he was sure he looked a little too deviously excited for someone who had just claimed to be exhausted.

As Kazuya neared room five, he could already hear Sawamura yelling.

"Why am I not allowed to go to bed? I'm tired!" His voice sounded strained and Kazuya could only too clearly picture the headlock in which Kuramochi had trapped the boy.

"I'm your senpai, I don't need a reason!" Kuramochi fired back. Right as Kazuya raised his hand to knock, he heard Sawamura yelp in a new wave of pain. He would definitely have to thank Kuramochi later, he thought as he rapped his knuckles on the door.

"You stay put! And don't even think about going to bed!" Kuramochi scolded. Kazuya heard a thump and could only conclude Sawamura had been dropped on his behind. His assumption was proven correct when Kuramochi threw the door open in his face.

"What!?" Kuramochi said with feigned irritation…or at least, Kazuya had thought it was feigned.

"Is Bakamura he—ah! He is!"

The boy in question looked up in bewilderment from where he sat on the ground, rubbing his rear end.

"What do you want? First Kuramochi-senpai and now you?" he said grumpily. "Why won't any of you nasty senpai leave me alone toni—"

"Wanna pitch for me a bit?" He extended a thumb towards the direction of the indoor practice facility. "We didn't get much time today and there's something I want to try."

Sawamura's expression instantly shifted to one of unadulterated elation.

"But of course, Miyuki-senpai!" he crowed as he quickly climbed to his feet. "I knew this day would come! I knew that one day, you would see the light and ask me to bestow upon you the honor of my incomparable pitching! Yes, I, the great Sawamura Eijun, will accompany you!"

"Speak in third person one more time and I'll take it back," Kazuya threatened as he turned to leave.

Sawamura blanched and followed quickly after Kazuya's retreating figure with a frantic, "Yes, captain!"

"You're both freaks," Kuramochi sighed as he closed the door behind them.

 _Phase one, complete_ , Kazuya thought to himself.

* * *

Kazuya comfortably settled into his usual stance as Sawamura did some arm stretches. He watched as the boy carefully took his time to focus on each individual muscle, from his trapezius to his shoulders to his forearms and his wrist. Chris-senpai had taught him well.

"So what'd you wanna try, Miyuki-senpai?"

Kazuya jolted so much he almost fell over. Luckily, Sawamura's eagerness to pitch had him as oblivious as usual.

"I just wanted to focus more on the inside pitches. You did well in the last game but they could still go a little lower." As if to back up his words, he lowered his mitt.

"That's not new! You said you wanted to try something new!"

"If you're going to complain, I'm going to leave."

Without another word, Sawamura raised his hands above his head in a windup.

As the ball slammed satisfyingly into Kazuya's mitt, he couldn't help but admire how much the pitcher had grown in just a few short weeks. Having devoted his whole life to baseball, Kazuya had seen many players experience various ruts, but there had been something different about watching Sawamura break down.

He never would have admitted it to anyone, of course, but Kazuya had never felt so worthless than when the gold had left Sawamura's eyes. On the surface, Sawamura had been the same boy: filled to the brim with sunshine and overflowing with…everything else. But underneath, there was a new emptiness and it was one that Kazuya knew he was helpless to try to fill. Luckily, Chris-senpai had been able to help.

"That was a good one, wasn't it?" Sawamura asked, a smile wide on his face.

Kazuya couldn't stifle his smile as he threw the ball back. "Nice ball."

Time passed as they relayed the ball back and forth, Kazuya correcting Sawamura every now and then and Sawamura insulting him but heeding his words without a second thought. Kazuya didn't even notice that his phone had yet to go off.

Some time later, Sawamura's knees suddenly gave out and he sank to the ground. Kazuya dashed forward in alarm.

"What's wrong?" he asked frantically, a hand hovering over Sawamura's shoulder.

"'S'nothing," the boy mumbled. Kazuya had to lean in to hear him. "Juss tired is all."

Kazuya looked at the clock. They had been here for a solid hour and a half.

"Why didn't you say something?" Kazuya pressed. He groaned, but it was more at himself than anything—just like in the final against Inashiro, he had gotten caught up and failed to realize the toll it had taken on Sawamura.

"Because I was having fun," Sawamura admitted as he peeked up at Kazuya through one open eye. "Can I go to bed now?"

Kazuya's heart sputtered. "No!" Kuramochi hadn't texted him that it was safe to go back yet.

Sawamura's other eye popped open. "Why not?"

"Because…ah…because…" Kazuya's eyes drifted towards the ceiling when a thought suddenly struck him. "Because there's one more thing I wanted your help with."

"What is it?" Sawamura asked, impatience marring his tired voice.

Kazuya was digging in his bag and he made sure to take his time. He needed to buy every second he could, not only for Kuramochi's sake, but also to give himself more time to come to terms with his impulsive decision. After several moments, Kazuya resurfaced from his bag.

He walked over to where Sawamura was still sprawled on the ground and offered the object to him.

"What's this?" Sawamura asked as he took the baseball cap from Kazuya's hand.

The catcher sniffled and then looked dismissively to the side—the epitome of disinterested—as he tossed the younger boy a marker. "Write something on it for me."

"What?"

"You wanted to write something on my hat, right?" Kazuya chanced a glance at him. "Well…I'm letting you."

Instead of the enthusiasm he expected, Kazuya was surprised to find Sawamura hesitating. "A-are you sure? This is important and—"

"Look, I'm not good at this stuff, okay? And you are, so…just do it and get it over with, will you?"

Sawamura scrunched up his face, torn somewhere between yelling at Kazuya and hugging him, and then crawled to the nearest wall where he leaned back and began to pensively tap the marker to his lips. After cleaning up all the equipment, Kazuya slumped down next to him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked as he tried to peer over the other boy's shoulder.

"No peeking!" Sawamura chastised.

Kazuya raised his hands defensively. "Fine, fine."

They sat there in contented silence, Sawamura scribbling away in midair and Kazuya watching him out of the corner of his eye. In what felt like no time, but had probably been quite some time after all, Kazuya felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Taking care to angle his phone away from Sawamura, he peeked at the message from Kuramochi.

 _Success._

Kazuya pocketed his phone again and turned towards Sawamura, ready to call it a night, only to find him finally writing something on the fabric. He closed his mouth and waited for the boy to finish.

Sawamura held the hat out in front of him and admired his work. When he'd had his fill, he handed it back to Kazuya with a satisfied grin on his face. "Ta-dah!"

Kazuya squinted at the scrawled letters.

" _Until the very end_ …?"

Sawamura nodded fervently.

"What does it mean?"

"What do you mean, 'What does it mean?'" Sawamura said, looking slightly affronted. "It means practice hard until the very end. Run until the very end. Don't give up until the very end. Fight until the very end. I don't know! Just…until the end!"

Kazuya considered him before looked back at the words. _Until the very end…._

Sawamura scratched his ear—something he had been doing a lot lately, Kazuya noted—and said, "They're also the most inspirational words anyone has ever said to me."

Kazuya's eyes shot back up. Although he already could guess what Sawamura's answer would be, he couldn't stop himself from asking. "Who said it?"

Sawamura flinched. "Ah, Chris-senpai!" Yep, there was the answer Kazuya had been expecting. Then Sawamura shook his head. "Wait, no! It was my grandpa! Yes, my grandpa."

"…You can't even remember who said them…?"

Sawamura shook his head again. "Yes! I mean, no! It was definitely my grandpa!"

Now that he thought about it, Kazuya remembered that he had heard Sawamura mention how much he'd admired his grandpa before. It was then that Kazuya's phone buzzed a second time. He contemplated dropping the topic, but then…

"Tell me about your grandpa."

Sawamura looked at him, shocked. "Huh?"

Kazuya shrugged. "Tell me about your grandpa."

Sawamura blinked a couple of times before he regained his composure. "Oh, um…well, if you think that _I_ am amazing," Kazuya raised his eyebrows at him and Sawamura stuck out his tongue in response "then there isn't a word impressive enough to describe Sawamura Eitoku! Hmmm…although he is a little scary, so maybe scary would be a good word…" Sawamura stroked his chin in thought. "Oh! Or intimidating! Yeah, that's good! Now that I think about it, he's kinda like Chris-senpai! Not as good-looking though…"

Kazuya sat and listened to Sawamura describe each member of his family in such detail that it felt like they were his own. The boy talked so warmly of them that Kazuya could almost picture the whole Sawamura clan as though they were in the room with them, rosy-cheeked and eyes full of sunshine (even if it burned a little too brightly at times).

Once Sawamura finished up with his family, he moved onto telling Kazuya about his childhood friends, including the infamous Wakana. Brimming with excitement, he pulled out his phone and began showing Kazuya picture after picture, each accompanied by a story. Faintly, Kazuya realized he should have been bored. Soon enough, Sawamura gave Kazuya his phone and instructed him which albums to look in with the point of his finger. As they continued, Sawamura leaned further and further in, until Kazuya was taken aback by a sudden weight on his shoulder. He tried his best to steady his breathing, but Sawamura made no mention of anything.

Kazuya was flicking through a myriad of pictures from one of Sawamura's junior high baseball games when he realized that Sawamura had stopped talking. Concerned something was wrong, Kazuya glanced down only to find the pitcher passed out, drool dripping unceremoniously down the side of his face…and onto Kazuya's shirt.

Smiling to himself, he pressed the home button the phone and was about to put it in Sawamura's lap when a thought struck him. He quickly pushed several buttons on the keypad and scrolled down until he found it: _Wakana Aotsuki._

Originally, he hadn't planned to actually give his cohort his promised payment; however, Kazuya wasn't one to withhold payment where payment was due. He would have to thank Kuramochi for tonight.

He took out his phone and found twenty unread messages, each more profane than the last.

 _Sorry_ , he typed. _I'll get it tomorrow._ Then he typed the phone number.

Again, he went to put the phone back in the arms of its owner, when another thought hit him and he began to type.

 _Leave your door unlocked._

* * *

Kazuya awoke before his alarm went off the next day; he'd been uneasy all night and hadn't gotten much sleep. He supposed it was the nerves for the game later that day but if he was being honest with himself, he had other reasons too.

Fueled by anxious excitement, Kazuya gave up on sleep and pushed himself out of bed. He threw on the nearest pants and jacket he could find and headed out the door; a morning run was sure to ease his nerves.

Kazuya was sure he would find a certain southpaw running around the practice field, so instead, he opted for the path that lined the dorms. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon and as Kuramochi had never been a morning person, he knew he had a solid block of time to kill.

As he jogged, he thought about how far the team had come in just the past couple weeks. Whereas at the beginning of the fall, there had been no coherence between the members, everyone now all meshed perfectly. Seidou was like a well-oiled machine—all parts were in peak condition and working together with immaculate precision. There was no way they wouldn't advance to the final.

Now that Kazuya thought about it, maybe this rapid change in morale was not just the fruit of devoted practice. Even though he had dismissed the idea a few days before, a part of him now understood the effect a few seemingly inconsequential words could have on someone. Ever since Sawamura had caused uproar about this hat business, everyone had been more motivated than usual. Of course, Zono's improved batting and all of the pitchers' new skills and Nabe's research had helped, but there was something to be said of the way that Sawamura's incessant babbling had affected everyone. Hell, even Kazuya himself had seen the light and began questioning what really inspired him when it came to baseball. He had certainly been feeling a lot sappier than usual. Then again, thought Kazuya, maybe that was just because of his talk with Chris-senpai.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket and Kazuya was so startled he tripped.

 _You have ten minutes to get to the cafeteria or I'm leaving_ , read the message from Kuramochi. Kazuya looked at the time.

"Ah, fuck."

* * *

Kuramochi shoved the hat into Miyuki's hand. "You owe me for this."

"I already gave you what you wanted," Kazuya said.

Kuramochi's fist wrapped tightly around the neck of Kazuya's shirt and Kazuya could've sworn he felt his weight lift slightly off the ground. The shortstop narrowed his eyes dangerously. "I have _seen_ things, Miyuki. Things no one should _ever_ have to see. And it was all for this stupid hat. You'd better hope it's worth it."

Still held up by his collar (to be honest, he was a little too used to this situation), he looked down at the hat in his hands and flipped it over.

Scratched on the brim were four very newly significant words.

 _Until the very end._

He couldn't believe it.

Kuramochi finally dropped him and began to stomp away, muttering to himself. "Fuckin' sap. 'Until the very end?' He makes me sick."

Kazuya stared at the hat in his hands and felt his heart begin to speed up, not quite unlike when he would watch Sawamura would wind up for a pitch.

An abrupt thought crossed his mind: maybe Kuramochi had grabbed the wrong hat. Kazuya had all but carried Sawamura back to his room the night before and he'd definitely had his hat then. Maybe Sawamura had forgotten to give it back to him…

Frantically, he turned the hat over in his hands a couple times, until he was able to make out the rough characters that were scrawled on the inside tag: _Sawamura Eijun_.

Heart picking up in double-time, Kazuya looked back at the words.

Without warning, bits and pieces from conversations earlier in the week came flooding back to him.

" _It's too personal."_

" _People will make fun of me."_

" _I promised Eijun-kun I wouldn't tell anyone."_

" _They're also the most inspirational words anyone has ever said to me."_

Then, quite suddenly, Kazuya's thoughts shifted back to the previous summer; a scene Kazuya would never forget, where he felt sick to his stomach and Sawamura looked at him with dead eyes.

" _You have my utmost respect for fighting well and never running away, until the very end."_

He wasn't sure how he knew it, but he knew. _Until the very end._ Kazuya himself had been the one who'd uttered the words written on the hat before him, and now his own hat as well. He was certain of it.

Carefully, almost as if afraid that they would disappear if he pressed too firmly, he ran a finger over the letters.

"You really are something, Bakamura," he said to himself as he shook his head fondly. The smile on his face did not falter in the slightest the rest of the morning.

* * *

One by one, they exited the bus outside of Meiji Jingu stadium. Although he could feel the team's nerves almost as if they were a tangible thing, Kazuya had never felt more confident.

"Ah, dammit!" Sawamura yelled from somewhere behind him. "Has anyone seen my hat?"

Kazuya whipped around to find a disheveled Sawamura, frantically looking this way and that. The younger Kominato flitted around him helplessly.

"Eijun-kun…" he chastised.

"Harucchi!" Sawamura moaned as the pink-haired boy moved past him. "I bet it was Kuramochi-senpai, that bastard!"

At that moment, Kuramochi had gotten off the bus right behind Sawamura and aimed a well-placed kick at his rear end before shoving the missing hat on his head. "Yeah, it was me. Quit leaving your stuff lying around, moron."

Sawamura wheeled around and bowed deeply at the shortstop. "Kuramochi-senpai! I am indebted to you! How shall I ever thank you for—"

"Just shut up," Kuramochi interrupted, a light blush on his cheeks. He glanced over the still-bowing Sawamura at Kazuya who couldn't contain his grin and promptly flicked him off.

* * *

" _The game between Seidou High School and Seiko High School will begin momentarily. Please take your seats."_

As the announcement sounded, both the Seidou and Seiko teams retreated to their respective dugouts to prepare. Kazuya quickly dug around in his bag and without pulling it out, took one last look at his Seidou hat before someone jabbed him roughly in the back.

"C'mon, captain." Kuramochi jerked his chin at him and started to walk away.

"I want to do the roar."

Kuramochi froze before he turned back around. "Huh? You do?"

"Yeah. Help me get everyone rounded up."

As they gathered in a tight circle and raised their hands to their hearts, Kazuya looked at each his teammates. They had all come so far together…but they still had so far to go.

"We…are not kings," he began. Every pair of eyes gaped back at him. He smirked. "We're challengers."

"YEAH!"

The sound reverberated throughout the stadium and in Kazuya's soul. This was where he belonged. This was where they belonged.

"Who's shed the most sweat?"

"SEIDOU!"

"Shed the most tears?"

"SEIDOU!"

"Are you ready for the fight?"

He locked eyes with Sawamura.

"YEAH!"

"Bearing pride in our hearts, we're after the national crown! Let's go!" Kazuya extended his arm to the sky as each of his team members followed suit.

"YEAH!"

The circle swiftly broke apart as the basemen and outfielders ran to the dugout to retrieve their gloves. Kazuya hustled over to the bench to fix himself in his catcher's gear.

"Miyuki-senpai."

Kazuya glanced over his shoulder. Sawamura was looking down at him.

"That was very…good," he finished lamely.

With his shin guards tightened, Kazuya straightened up. "Thanks."

"Good luck out there," the younger boy said sincerely. "But make no mistake! I, Sawamura Eijun, will be in the bullpen, getting _somewhat_ ready, just as promised! The moment you need me, I will come to your rescue!"

Kazuya raised his eyebrows as he lowered his mask over his face. "Oh really?"

"Yes!"

"Until the very end?"

Sawamura flushed but then exhaled sharply as a large smile broke out across his face. "Yes! Until the very end!"

"Good."

Kazuya tapped his glove to Sawamura's chest and then ran out to the field, where he knew he would fight, where he would give everything he had, until the very end.


End file.
